


"Thank You" Is The Charm

by traumschwinge



Category: X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Babysitting, Fairy Tale Elements, M/M, Unresolved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-16 09:27:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3483053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/traumschwinge/pseuds/traumschwinge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At first, when Charles notices food vanishing for his kitchen, he doesn't think it's anything odd, just that there's possibly some mice. But then his knifes sharpen over night when food disappears and a pan fixes itself. Could it be there's a helpful kitchen spirit that has taken up residence in his home? If so, Charles sees no reason to complain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Thank You" Is The Charm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nextraordinaire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nextraordinaire/gifts).



At first, Charles didn't even consciously notice the food vanishing from his kitchen. It was only a missing cookie here, or a twig of grapes there, things so little it was well below radar. Then, when it happened more frequently, he noticed, but he blamed it on working too much and sleeping too less. Only when he found an apple, half eaten by something with tiny teeth, the sink, did he consider that he might have mice. Or at least that something was stealing his food. The bite marks didn't look too much like a mouse if he looked closely.

It wasn't the only odd thing he started noticing. His knives suddenly were less blunt and it was like they were getting sharper each night. A fork he had bend a couple of months back suddenly had straight prongs again. One night, after he had used his pan with the loose handle, the screw in the handle tightened overnight. That time, the last two inches of bread he had vanished from the counter.

These occurrences, as strange as they were, were the only reason why Charles wasn't straight out putting up mouse traps. He feared that once he would do, the mysterious self-fixing kitchen utensils would stop fixing themselves. A cookie a day and some fruit over the week was a small price to pay for knives so sharp he could split a hair on and pans that never had loose handles.

Through experimentation by leaving different foods out, he found what food his little kitchen helper liked more than others and made sure to always have some of the chocolate cookies that he had figured were the helper's favorite. For weeks, it went on like this. Charles left out some food at night and in the morning it was gone and something metal was fixed around his kitchen.

The silent understanding between Charles and the little helpful being was interrupted one night with a bang. Earlier that evening, Charles had thoroughly burned his dinner, leaving him with no other choice than to fill the burned pot with some water to let it soak and put something else together. It also made him forget to leave the food out when he wet to bed early.

He had just fallen asleep, when there was a crash from the kitchen. It sounded like a pan had been dropped. For a moment, Charles wondered if he should get up. Still sleepy, his mind had gone to the option 'This must be whoever repairs my stuff' before 'This could be an intruder'. He rubbed his eyes and took his time to turn the light on and make some noise as he went to the kitchen. If it was his little helper, Charles wanted to give him the time to get away.

When he entered the kitchen, he found the pot he had burned the night before upside down on the floor. There was no sign of a forced entry, so Charles decided he should just pick up the pot, mop up the water and then go back to bed. But just as he crouched down to pick up the pot, the pot trembled. There was a low bang, like something small hitting the pot from the inside. Charles hesitated just one more moment, before he lifted the pot to see what had trapped itself inside.

There was a tiny man, maybe four inches tall, standing in a puddle of to him ankle deep water, blackened by sooth. For a brief moment, he looked angry, before that was replaced by fear and then an ashamed blush before once more becoming anger again. He also looked slightly like a drowned rat, Charles couldn't help but notice. It might have to do with the fact that he was wearing something that looked like it was the hide of some rodent. “What are you doing here?” the thumbling snapped. “You should be in bed and dead asleep by now!”

Charles blinked. It was not every day that one was accused of not being asleep in his own kitchen. “I heard a noise when the pot hit the floor,” he answered. His curious eyes never left the thumbling. “So, it was you who sharpened my knives and fixed my pans?”

“So, it was you who couldn't be bothered to take care of his things,” the thumbling huffed.

“I fed you,” Charles protested.

The thumbling shrugged. “Fair enough,” he admitted. “Are you now going to chase me out?” The thumbling crossed his arms in front of his chest and glared at Charles, like he was daring Charles to fight him.

Charles, on the other hand, merely blinked at him. He hadn't even considered this. “Why would I?” he asked.

“I've been living here without your knowledge and stealing your food,” the thumbling huffed.

Charles shrugged. “For the past weeks, you only stole your food. And you paid me back for it.” For a moment, he thought, before he continued. “Where do you sleep, anyway?”

The thumbling jerked his chin in the direction of the highest cupboard. “On top of that,” he said, and now that he was looking, Charles could see a bit of string dangling from it.

“Do you like sleeping up there?” Charles asked, sceptically.

“It's warm, dry and save,” the thumbling grumbled.

“So would a shoebox filled with some fabric pieces be until I found you a bed your size,” Charles offered.

“I...guess?” For the first time, the thumbling seemed caught off guard by what Charles said. “Are you trying to domesticate me?” He sounded a little wary, but his stance indicated that he could be persuaded by sweet talk if Charles gave it a shot.

“If you'd like to?” Charles smiled, bringing himself closer to the eye level of—but not actually closer to—the thumbling. “I would like to know your name, at least. I can't continue to call you 'my little kitchen helper' now that I made your acquaintance.”

The thumbling sized Charles up with his eyes. “...Erik,” he finally grumbled.

“Hello, Erik, I'm Charles,” Charles said, offering a finger to shake Erik's hand. Erik shook it, but his expression made it clear that he thought it was rather silly.

“I won't be your pet,” Erik grumbled.

“I'm sure you won't,” Charles replied. “Now lets get you dry again and then we'll see what you could wear until we find the time to get you some proper clothes.”

“What could you possibly offer me that would fit?” Erik asked, stepping onto Charles' hand when Charles offered. He was carried to the bathroom like this where Charles let him climb down again and onto a towel.

“My nephew left some dolls here that might be about your size,” Charles mused.

“I will not wear a dress!” Erik complained.

“You wear a dead rat,” Charles reminded him. “And I wasn't thinking of a dress, but of a shirt and trousers.”

Erik quickly stripped said dead rat off and dropped it onto the floor. “Well, I can't wear that anymore, can I?” He wrinkled his nose. “It stinks. I stink, most likely...er, you were offering me some doll clothes?”

Charles nodded. “You just stay here.” He left the bathroom for the living room where he stored the few toys he had for whenever he was sitting Kurt. There was a small box with toy mice and various pieces clothing for them. For a moment, he thought he'd just pick something at random, but then he took all clothes that seemed suitable for Erik. He could pick what he liked himself.

When Charles returned, Erik was currently struggling with the faucet. He had managed to close the plug, but he had trouble opening the tab. Currently, he was trying to push it up from below to get the water to flow, but the handle wouldn't budge.

Charles remained standing in the doorway for a moment, watching Erik. “Do you need help?” he finally asked. He had a hard time hiding an amused smile.

“What does it look like?” Erik grumbled. “I'm fine, I have no trouble using all sorts of machinery devised for giants. I can take baths whenever I like.” He pushed against the handle with all his strength one last time, before giving up with a defeated sigh. “I'd really like a bath.”

“I could fill you the sink with some water,” Charles suggested.

“Please,” Erik sighed. He padded over to the side of the sink, where he sat down to slide to the bottom.

“Tell me when it's enough water,” Charles instructed, as he turned the water on.

Erik sat there quiet for a while, staring at the rising waterline. “Enough,” he murmured eventually.

“Do you need anything else?” Charles asked.

“Soap?” Erik splashed some water. “But not now.”

“So,” Charles started after a long while. “How come you're this small? You don't look like a gnome or a sprite.”

“How come you're this big? You don't look like a giant or a dwarf,” Erik snapped back at him. He sighed, when he noticed the hurt look on Charles' face. “Some witch shrank me for being rude to her,” he admitted, very meekly. “It's supposed to teach me to be nice or something along those lines.” He shrugged. “She might have a point there, but it's still unfair. I hate being small.”

“When was that?” Charles asked, suddenly concerned. “Do you have any family that might be looking for you?”

Erik shook his head.

“Did she give you a way out? Something to lift this curse?” Charles went on.

“Don't you think I haven't tried anything I could think of?” Erik grumbled. “I'm stuck at four inches for the rest of my life. I can just as well get the fuck used to it.”

Charles listened, very quiet. After a while, it seemed to irritate Erik and he looked up at him again. “Are you...” He shook his head. “Thanks for being so nice to me.”

“You're welcome,” Charles smiled. “You really helped me out by repairing my stuff.”

“So, you're not going to chase me out?” Erik asked.

“I already told you, no. You can stay as long as you want to.”

“Aren't you afraid I might be dangerous?” Erik went on.

Charles shook his head. “You're four inches tall, what danger could you be?”

“I could try to kill you by keeping you up all night,” Erik grinned.

“So, that's your evil plan now? First you lure me in with ever sharp knives and pans which handles don't come off anymore, and then you try to murder me by not letting me sleep anymore?” Charles laughed. “Come on, wash up, I'd really like to get at least some sleep tonight.”

Charles helped Erik with the shampoo and then with the towel. Now that he was all clean and rosy from the bath, Charles noticed that for a four inch miniature man, Erik was quite handsome, even though he still needed a shave. Once Erik was dry, Charles let him pick a shirt and trousers from the stack he'd brought. Erik complained a little about how bad it fit, but he seemed overall pleased with not having to wear his old rat skin anymore. Charles threw it out while Erik dressed and scrubbed his hands after, wishing he had some disinfectant at hand.

He took Erik with him to the bedroom after. Erik decided that he could just as well sleep nested somewhere into a cushion for the night, no need to bother with anything else. Tired as he was, Charles soon fell asleep.

Next day after work, Charles only returned home to pick Erik up. “Would you mind going out in my coat pocket?” he asked Erik as he put down his briefcase.

“What?” Erik looked up from where he was lying on an open book. He had been reading when Charles came home.

“Don't you want some clothes that actually fit?” Charles asked. “I can't sew so the only option we have is go to a toy store, I guess?”

“Can't you just order some on the internet?” Erik sighed. “Besides, these are okay.” He plucked at the stiff shirt that was sticking out at weird places and didn't look complimenting at all. The trousers were too wide for Erik's waist and only held up by some string he used as a belt, while at the same time the legs were too short to cover his ankles.

“Yesterday, you sounded like they weren't,” Charles reminded him.

“Yeah, but what makes you think any doll clothes will fit better than these?” Erik sighed. “I was thinking, these are likely the best I can get.”

Charles looked him up and down. It was true that there wasn't a very high chance that they would find better fitting clothes for Erik at a toy store. It was also unlikely that he would be allowed to try the clothes first. Charles frowned. There had to be another way.

“I can practically hear you thinking, Charles,” Erik said, his tone warning. “I will not wear a dress. And no, just because I look like a Mainzelmännchen doesn't mean I can sew like one.”

“But we could ask my sister if she wants to make you some better fitting clothes,” Charles offered. “She's the one who sewed those you're wearing. I doubt she would say no.”

“Charles, no,” Erik looked flustered all of a sudden. “I can't just go and meet your family!”

“But you have to meet them eventually anyway,” Charles sighed. “Kurt will be staying the weekend and I doubt you'll want to hide for two and a half days.”

“What if I do?” Erik grumbled.

“Erik!” Charles protested.

“Listen, why are you even this nice to me? I don't get it. I broke into your home, I stole your food and you still act around me like I was some sort of a stray kitten.” Erik sounded more and more irritated with each word.

“Why wouldn't I be nice? You're clearly in need of help, unless you actually like hunting rats, which I doubt because I know you rather hunt any kind of cookie with chocolate in it.” Charles sighed. “Okay, I'll make some dinner and while I do, we talk. Maybe, if we know each other better, you can see that I just want to help you, without any second thoughts.”

Erik grumbled some more but he let himself being picked up and even climbed onto Charles shoulder, where he found himself a spot close to Charles' neck. His hands were surprisingly warm, Charles thought when Erik touched him briefly while settling down.

The conversation while Charles was cooking went quickly from small talk about what Charles did for a living and Erik blocking similar questions to Erik giving tips and instructions for Charles' cooking.

“No wonder you burned that pot,” Erik grumbled. “It's a miracle you survived on your own this long without turning exclusively to take-away.”

Under Erik's instructions, Charles finished cooking dinner. Even though most of what Erik said sounded more like a command than an instruction, Charles could tell it was just Erik's way of being nice when he didn't want to be. He could get used to it, with some time. In fact, over dinner, he found that he would like to get to know Erik better very much. If it had been a date, Charles wouldn't have hesitated to as Erik out for another one.

“So,” Charles said, pushing his plate a bit away. “Have you come to a conclusion concerning the clothes?”

Erik sighed. “I guess it can't hurt to ask her.” Though, when Charles opened his mouth to respond, he held up a hand. “On the condition that you explain my situation to her first, or, better yet, make up something so she mustn't know right away.”

Charles blinked at him for a moment. Something just went click in the back of his mind. “You're embarrassed by you current condition,” he blurted out.

Erik frowned at him. “Of course I am,” he snapped. “Wouldn't you be? It's not like I didn't have a life before. Which is likely to fall to pieces now, I've been like this for more than two weeks. My boss is surely wondering where I am, if he hasn't fired me already and without a job, I can't pay rent and without rent I have not even a place to go back to when, no _if_ , I ever turn back to my actual size.” Just as soon as he closed his mouth, Erik pretty much deflated, sitting in the middle of the table with his legs drawn close and his arms wrapped around them.

“...is there anything I can do to help?” Charles asked, before he even had really thought about it.

Erik merely shook his head. “I don't think there's anything to be done there.”

And with that, this topic was over, at least for Erik. Charles, on the other hand, vowed to try to find out if there were any “Erik”s that had gone missing lately.

The meeting with Raven was much more embarrassing than Charles had expected. As soon as he introduced Erik to her, he was pulled into another room so she could give him a piece of her mind about what his goodwill would go to him one day (kill him), what she thought of letting intruders stay (it's creepy) and what she thought about Erik in particular (possibly hot once he's not four inches tall, but rude and also possibly a serial killer).

She still agreed to measure Erik and make him some clothes. It wasn't a big deal, she ensured both Charles and Erik, just a matter for a couple of hours. They stayed for coffee and Charles used the time to watch Kurt playing with Erik. The boy had immediately decided to like Erik and nothing Erik did or said was able to change that. So Erik had given in and taken it upon himself to play with him, even if he made it clear to Charles that he found it quite degrading to be just another doll. He only shut up about it when Raven reminded him what clothes he was wearing.

Charles didn't mind. He was secretly pleased that Erik didn't say anything about Kurt. It even was like Erik didn't notice the blue fur covering the boy or the odd number of fingers. Charles had meant to ask Erik about his view on mutants before he visited, but the opportunity never had come up. It was a pleasant surprise to see Erik not minding.

That was, until Erik asked Kurt, “What can you do?”

Both normal sized adults exchanged a quick, alarmed look. But when Kurt vanished into smoke and reappeared with a pop on his uncle's lap, Erik merely whistled like it was one of the most astonishing things he'd ever seen.

“I just can't go far,” Kurt confessed to Erik. “Can you do anything? You don't look different, but Uncle Charles doesn't, either.”

Erik frowned for a second. “I could,” he mused. “But I haven't tried in this size. Let's see.” He looked around the toys Kurt had been showing to him, before he walked over to a toy car. “This should do,” he murmured. He extended his hand and looked very concentrated for a moment, before the car first started to rattle and then lifted off to hover above the table. Erik grinned, very pleased with himself. When Kurt applauded, he let the car hover over to the boy so he could snatch it from the air.

Charles was still staring at Erik when he and Kurt had gone back to whatever it was that Kurt wanted to play. A fact, that, despite whatever Charles hoped for, didn't go unnoticed by Raven. “You like him,” she teased, low enough Erik wouldn't overhear even if he wasn't occupied by an excited three-year old.

Charles blushed in lieu of an answer.

“Oh, gosh, Charles!” Raven was grinning but she still shook her head. “Don't tell me you would hit on him?”

“Of course not!” Charles hissed back.

“Yeah, because he's currently four inches tall,” she teased. “What do you do once he isn't?”

“I'll decide if that ever happens,” Charles answered, making sure to push his displeasure at her.

Raven raised an eyebrow. “Don't you think it'll wear off eventually? Looks to me like he crossed some other mutant.”

Charles shrugged, then shook his head. “Possible. But it could just as well be permanent if it was powers going haywire.”

“Well, at least he's sweet with Kurt, so you know he's good with kids, at least,” Raven sighed. “Just don't do anything stupid, please.”

“Like what?”

“Like, not letting him go once he's back to normal again, for example.” Raven gave him one of her looks, one he knew only too well.

“I will,” Charles snapped, only to admit right after, “As long as he can get back to his own feet right after.”

Raven rolled her eyes. “Just keep within his boundaries, as well as yours.”

Charles—and thus Erik—stayed at Raven's until after dinner. The drive home was quiet, with Erik napping in the cup holder. Playing with Kurt all afternoon had exhausted him more than it had ever exhausted Charles, but that was easily blamed on Erik's size. When he arrived at home, Charles carefully picked Erik up as to not disturb him. He put Erik on the cushion he'd been sleeping in the night before.

Charles readied himself for bed as well. The talk with Raven had left him with quite a few things to think about. It wasn't like he hadn't been aware that he found Erik attractive before, but it must be bad if Raven noticed, no matter how perceptive she was on his crushes. He stayed up for a little longer, sitting in his living room with a book he didn't even bother to look at. If he had met Erik any other way, he would have asked him out somehow, he was sure. Even though he now knew him better, Charles found that he didn't mind that Erik was a bit gruff and had troubles expressing gratitude. It was almost like he had fallen hard for Erik, without even noticing. It didn't make much sense. Intellectually, Charles knew that this was behavior only found in teenagers. Liking somebody instantly, yes, that was possible, but love came slower at his age.

“Charles?” Erik eventually called for him from the bedroom. “Where are you?” he called again, his voice still sleep-addled.

“I'll be there in a minute,” Charles called back. He finally put down his book and stood up from the couch, stretching his limps that had gone stiff from the long time he'd sat unmoving. He hadn't come to a decision about his situation yet, but that had time for later, he figured.

Erik was sitting up when Charles entered his bedroom. He looked sleepy, but he still looked up when he heard Charles.

“Did I wake you?” Charles asked softly. He padded over to the bed and lay down. It was the most convenient way to bring his eyes closer to Erik's.

Erik shook his head. “I woke up on my own,” he said, yawning. “Kurt said you were a mutant...”

“So now of course you wanted to know what I can do,” Charles sighed. If the choice were entirely his, he'd never have this talk with anyone but a select few he trusted enough.

Erik nodded.

“I'm a telepath,” Charles said, quickly, just to get over with it sooner.

Erik nodded again.

“Won't you ask me to stay out of your head or to read your mind to prove it or something equally ridiculous?” Charles asked, when Erik didn't say anything for a while.

Erik shrugged, then grinned. “If you could get a read on me, you would have found me in your kitchen sooner than you had,” he pointed out. “I'd rather want to know why you can't, to be honest.”

Charles looked at him. “I guess you're... kind of of the wrong frequency to me. Your thoughts, that is. Maybe it's because you're so small. Would you mind if I could?”

“Would you mind that I could fry your hard drive if I wanted to? Or put your car on top of the highest building in the city, or even make all metal objects flee your touch?” Erik grinned.

Charles laughed at that. The mental image of cutlery, keys, any metal at all fleeing from him like he was a magnet of the wrong charge was just as funny as it was terrifying.

“No, I don't think so,” Charles said when he could talk again. “At least I doubt you would do it without a good reason.”

“See? So why should I mind your telepathy now.” Erik yawned again, and, giving in, lay down as well. “I'll mind if you abuse your powers on me, though,” he mumbled.

“Would you let me in your mind if I could?” Charles asked, softly. He didn't expect an answer, as Erik had already closed his eyes again and was breathing easily, so it came as a surprise when Erik said, “If it was only to listen, yes.”

Friday afternoon, when Charles just had come back from work, Raven dropped Kurt off with him for the night. Charles had agreed long ago that he would look after Kurt every other week so she and Az could go on a date night, or, which was lately far more usual, just have a night off and to themselves. Kurt was delighted to see Erik again. Even though he didn't show it in front of Kurt, Charles could see it was taxing for Erik to play with him, especially when playing involved Erik running around, halfheartedly following Kurt's orders to save a princes, or find a treasure or something like that.

Raven had also a small stack of clothes for Erik, though, so the first 'game' Kurt engaged Erik in was to have Erik try on all the different outfits. There were only three of them, so it didn't take too long, but Charles still watched just as intently as Kurt did.

The clothes Raven had sewn fit really well, no matter that they were rather simple in design. Charles could only imagine how Erik would look in something more tight fitting, or in a suit. It were images that were hard to get out of his head.

He watched Kurt and Erik play for a while, stepping in after a while to engage Kurt in other activities so Erik could get some rest. But before dinner, Charles had to leave them alone again. Erik made a short barb about how Charles should ask him for help with it, but when Charles asked if he really wanted to come Erik said he was good looking after Kurt and keeping it out of Charles' way while he was cooking.

It was surprisingly quiet while Charles was cooking. Kurt didn't come running for him. There was no screaming from the living room. It was almost eery, knowing that there was a little kid in the room over and he had still fifteen minutes of peace and quiet in which he could prepare some pasta with sauce.

Erik didn't eat dinner with them. Instead, he hid somewhere in a small pile of stuffed animals. Charles assumed he was sleeping while Charles got the questionable pleasure to help a three year old eat his tomato sauce. Somehow, Charles couldn't blame him for that. Erik had helped him out enough as it was now.

After dinner, there was little Erik could help Charles with. Kurt needed a bath—there were red stains almost everywhere, as expected—and then tucking into bed. Kurt was a lot less fussy that day, even though he already wasn't a very fussy child from what Charles could tell. Both the bath and the tucking in went over smoothly, so Charles was left to his own devices by seven.

It was just around that time that Erik resurfaced from his napping spot. He helped Charles putting the toys away as well as he could at his size and then let Charles pick him up so they could sit down on the couch.

“Thank you for your help today,” Charles sighed. It was still early, but he was tired as if it was much, much later. Sometimes, he had to admire Raven who put up with her little fuzz ball every day. It wasn't like Charles didn't like his nephew, it was just exhausting to deal with small children.

Erik, who was sitting very close to Charles already, shuffled closer so he could lean his head against Charles' neck. “I should be thanking you,” he said. He sounded even more exhausted than Charles felt. “For, for the clothes and everything and for being so nice to me in the first place.” Erik sighed. “You had no reason to and you still did and I guess, it's time to say thanks and be grateful.”

“Even though I let Kurt play house with you and he made you marry the wood mouse?” Charles chuckled.

“Especially because of that,” Erik laughed. “He's a nice kid.”

“True, but I wonder how Raven keeps up with him all day,” Charles sighed. “I'm glad I only have to deal with kids when they're much much older.”

“Oh, come on, you do well with him,” Erik said, patting Charles' chin.

Charles sighed. “I know.” He laughed. “But more times than not, I'm glad that I always know when I'll hand him back over to his mother.”

“So, you're not ready for children yet,” Erik stated. “Does that matter? From what I can tell from knowing you for about three weeks, you don't have any girlfriend, serious or not.”

“And I doubt I'll ever will,” Charles sighed.

“Not interested?” All of a sudden, Erik sounded a little more alert.

“Not anymore.” Charles shrugged. “It's not like I don't like women, but I found that I just like men more. Does that matter?” Because it would, if it mattered to Erik.

He felt Erik shake his head against his neck. “Not at all.”

The talk they had didn't let Charles sleep for a long while that night.

When Charles woke up, it was just past sunrise. He was cold and it took him a bit to figure out that he was cold because his blanket was missing. He found it next to him on the bed, but when he pulled on it, it didn't budge. Irritated, Charles pulled harder. The only change that brought was a sudden, sleepy growl from whatever held the blanket.

“Erik?” Charles whispered, suddenly wide awake.

A deep, throaty growl came as a reply. Charles poked the blanket, right where he assumed the side of somebody curled up would be.

“I don't mind you under my blanket but I'd appreciate if you'd shared,” Charles went on. “Erik? Please I want to sleep some more before Kurt's up.”

Charles pulled on the blanket once more. This time, it did move a little. Erik stirred, then turning to Charles, blinking the sleep out of his bleary eyes. “What?” he murmured.

“I'd guess you're tall again?” Charles said, staring Erik in the eyes as if for the first time. He looked even more handsome now that Charles didn't have the urge to pick up a magnifying lens to see details. “And you stole my blanket.” Charles wasn't sure why he pointed that out, but it was important.

“Oh.” Erik blinked. Now that he was normal sized again, Charles was starting to feel his thoughts, too. He could feel Erik's mental gears shift and turn for some seconds, before he gave up again, too tired or sleepy to really think about it all. Instead, he just held the blanket open. “Come here?” Erik offered. “Unless you mind. I'd rather figure this out later.”

Charles moved closer, wrapping his arms around Erik's naked torso. “Is this alright?” he asked. Erik was so wonderfully warm and he was really sleepy, still.

Erik nodded. “This is perfect,” he murmured. He put his arms around Charles and let out a content sigh. Within two more minutes, both were fast asleep again.

 

 


End file.
